If I ever meet you at a party or an event of some sort, please do not ask for Champagne when you really mean sparkling white or Prosecco (as well as several other blends/varietals that fall into this category). The grapes that have given their lives for the deliciously light bubbly celebratory libation, only found in the Champagne region of France, have died in vain and makes me cringe (along with a very heavy sigh and quite possibly a forehead slap).
Being judgemental, snobbish,and down right condescending…. Eek, I try so hard not to be… not to throw that stone… for I am FAR from perfect, but mess with my wine and my head starts to spin and pea soup flows quite easily out of my mouthhole.
Case in point (and true story): a dear friend was having a very informal wedding reception at the rod and gun club near her home (I did say ‘informal’ yes? I wasn’t kidding) and I asked if she would like me to bring the wine (guessing that a rod and gun club just might not have the mid-grade grape beverage I am used to). She stated that she had it covered and only wanted me to join in the celebration with no worries.
Without ever attending a rod and gun club, I envisioned it as a VFW hall of sorts. As I arrived and parked in the middle of a field, to find the dilapidated building abutting a mosquito invested pond, I quickly realized my first instinct to bring ‘back up’ wine was appropriate (and even a fleeting moment of – get the hell out of here before you catch Lyme disease or EEE).
Hugging my friend and wishing her all the best on her new-found love, I quickly asked to have a glass of wine and start the festivities only to find the cheapest box of white zinfandel on the card table (picture yourself staring at the box of wine and the sound effects of screeching auto brakes in your head… that was me).
Needless to say, I was not happy, took a deep breath, tried not to sound unappreciative, but I am not a poker player for a reason. I looked her straight in the eyes and reminded her that I offered to bring wine (deadpan). Her look of confusion was almost heartbreaking (almost, she was messing with my wine for Pete’s sake and I was at a broken down rod and gun club – sheesh have mercy for me!)
See that’s me being judgemental and snobbish again. I am working on it, what can I say?
Even the most laid back and egalitarian among us can be insufferable snobs when it comes to coffee, music, cars, beer, or any other pet obsession where things have to be just so. What are you snobbish about?